A Book Club And A Home Coming

Sunday Book Club: There was a time when I finished 60 to 100 books a year. I was the girl with books. Always. My bed had books. My table had books. My almirah had books. I had one in hand. I read. I actually read "War and Peace." And I wrote.
Then one day, I stopped reading. Unless for work. Writing became sparse.
I exactly don't know what happened to me. I just stopped.
But bought books. It's muscle memory I guess.
Today I attended the Sunday Book club. The recommended book was "The Nightingale, by Kristin Hannah." Five of us met at CMYK book shop. Read for two hours. Finished two chapters. Anytime a line touched us, we shared the joy with each other. Sharing that joy of written words.

It felt like homecoming. My reading is slow. But I am reading. It's like starting to be with someone you deeply loved long ago, but lost them to war. And one day they return. And you learn to live with them again.

Through this homecoming, you learn to fall in love again.

I am walking home as if for the first time. Slowly but gently, I will reach home.

If my work has made an impact on you, you can buy me a coffee here. This will help me to keep writing and healing more. Thank you.